Not long enough
by aonalion
Summary: Bakura allows Malik to use his host in order to get close to Yugi and his friends... but Malik can't help but feel fascinated by the several thousand years old spirit. Oneshot, Malik x Bakura


**A/N:** This is a present for two awesome cosplayers I've met at a couple of convents! They cosplay as Malik and Bakura, and they are so cute together! ;_;

This oneshot takes place in the manga, just after Malik and Bakura meet for the first time and Bakura allows Malik to use his host in order to get close to Yugi and his friends~ (I'm just telling you this since it's not the exact same in the anime...)

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><p>Malik couldn't help but lick his lips.<p>

The white-haired teenager's laugh died out and he collapsed on the ground in front of Malik, a red stain quickly appearing on his shirt. Once his body hit the concrete it took Malik a moment for him to regain his composure and actually have enough presence to walk up to the other.

Bakura let out a soft moan as Malik knelt down next to him, but the spirit was far gone and what was left was nothing more than Ryou, the spirit's host. Malik cocked his head to one side and studied the seemingly peaceful teen's face, not caring about the fact that he was still bleeding from the wound on his upper arm. He had agreed on Malik using his host to be able to get to Yugi and his friends, and once he had gotten his revenge Bakura could have the Millennium Rod. At that point it wouldn't mean anything to Malik anymore.

Although it was a bit annoying that Malik had sent away his minions to watch over Jonouchi, so now he had to deal with this himself. Oh well, first thing's first.

He lifted up Bakura's body slightly to be able to take off his pale blue shirt, since it was in the way. The wound on his arm was still bleeding, and since Malik didn't have anything else on him to stop it, he ripped apart Bakura's shirt instead. He tied a piece of the fabric around his arm, barely caring if it stopped the bleeding or not. Bakura had chosen it himself, to harm himself like that, so it was his own fault. If he wanted to he probably could've done it in some other way, without injuring his host. Malik guessed he enjoyed it, in some strange, sadomasochistic way.

Malik gazed from Bakura's lifeless body to his motorcycle. Was he going to be forced to take the body on his motorcycle? That wouldn't work out at all, especially not given the fact that he wasn't too good at riding to begin with.

He supposed he could just call for his Rare Hunters to come and get them with a car or something, but that would probably take a while. Touching the Millennium Rod allowed him to contact one of his minions and tell him to come and get them. He was informed it would take at least ten minutes before they got there.

Letting out an irritated sigh, Malik crossed his arms. They had the nerve to let him wait…! Oh well, once he had all three God cards they would all obey him and no one else, and then they wouldn't dare to not follow his orders.

But what to do for ten minutes?

Once again he looked down at Bakura. His white hair was slightly ruffled by the vague wind, sometimes hiding his face. Malik knelt down next to him again and grabbed the remains of his shirt. Tearing off a long piece of fabric, he used it to bind Bakura's wrists together. Just to be safe.

With no further use of Bakura's torn apart shirt, Malik tossed it away without any second thoughts. The wind caught it and sent it down into the water, where it slowly sank along with the knife Bakura had used to cut himself.

Malik hadn't noticed until now, but he had gotten blood on his fingers when trying to bind the wound. After just a moment's consideration, he brought his fingers up to his mouth and licked the blood off with just a hint of a smirk. He was a strange one, wasn't he? Bakura didn't look like anyone Malik had seen before – right now he looked perfectly normal and relaxed, but Malik knew what lurked beneath the surface. He vaguely wondered who would win in a duel – he or Bakura? Of course he believed in his own strength and deck, but he had no idea what Bakura would be like in a duel. He could imagine the white-haired teen's deck was just like his personality; calm and seemingly normal, with insanity hiding just below the surface.

It made him interested, and he couldn't help but reach out a hand and brush away a strand of hair from Bakura's face in order to see his eyes more clearly. His eyes were closed, of course, but Malik felt as if the spirit could still see him. It was an exciting thought.

Without being able to stop himself, Malik slid his hand downwards, just barely touching Bakura's skin with the tip of his fingers. He brushed past his temples, his cheeks, and finally his chin. He paused for a moment and then brushed over his bottom lip with his thumb.

Bakura's eyes snapped wide open.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice high and demanding. Malik instantly knew it was the spirit and not the host.

"I thought you were gone," Malik said truthfully, cocking his head to one side but keeping his fingers near Bakura's chin, lightly touching it.

"I was. I sensed something was wrong." His eyes followed Malik's movements as he slowly moved his hand upwards, brushing his fingers over his skin yet again. "Would you stop that?"

"Why?" Malik wondered and couldn't keep a smirk off his face. "Are you enjoying it?"

"Not as much as I'll enjoy killing you once I get my hands on the Millennium Rod."

Malik let out a soft chuckle. "It won't matter by then. I'll have my revenge on the Pharaoh and whatever you do to me will be irrelevant."

"Well, I'm glad you feel that way," Bakura spat and closed his eyes. Malik watched him under silence for a moment, then made it more comfortable for himself on the ground and slowly ran his fingers through Bakura's hair instead. The other teen's eyes opened again. Malik saw his eyebrow twitch and felt his grin getting wider.

"What's the matter?" Malik asked and leaned in closer. Before Bakura could answer Malik placed his lower arms on Bakura's chest, practically resting his full weight on top of him and letting his hair hang down on the other's face. Bakura let out a hint of a groan through gritted teeth. It took Malik a moment to figure out what was wrong. "Oh, does it hurt?" He looked at the wound for a moment. It still looked pretty messy, but at least it wasn't bleeding anymore. Not a lot anyway.

"It hurts my host. I can feel the pain through him." Bakura seemed completely unfazed by the fact that Malik was mere centimeters away from his face.

"Really?" He couldn't help but smile again. This was funnier than he thought. Before the other had a chance to figure out what was going on, Malik had a tight grip around his arm, making him squirm and groan out loud.

"Don't do that," he panted once Malik had loosened his grip somewhat.

"What are you going to do, kill me before you get the Rod?"

"Don't tempt me." Bakura was smiling now as well, but his smile was on the verge of maniacal, and his eyes were wide open. Somehow, Malik enjoyed the sight. But would Bakura really kill him before he got what he wanted? If he pushed him enough he was afraid he'd find out the answer to that question, and Malik backed off a little, letting go of his arm.

Malik paused for a moment and simply observed Bakura. Their eyes never left each other. Malik knew Bakura was challenging him to untie the improvised hand-cuffs so they could battle for real. Whether physically, mentally or in a duel, he didn't know. He was equally interested in all three alternatives.

As he lightly touched the Millennium Ring Bakura's gaze hardened.

"Don't touch that," he said, in a way that made you think he had once been a Pharaoh and not a simple thief. Malik cocked his head to one side and said nothing. So the spirit had fears after all; if the Ring was removed he would disappear and his fate would be completely out of his own hands. Not being in control of your own destiny was something that would make even Malik hesitate, and yet it felt strange that a several thousand year old spirit was afraid of something.

"I find you very interesting," Malik finally admitted and leaned in just a little closer. The tips of their noses were touching, and when Bakura moved his head slightly they rubbed together, sending a jolt of excitement through Malik's body and straight to his stomach. Maybe he was imagining it, but he thought he saw a hint of a smirk around the corners of Bakura's mouth. His gaze went from Bakura's lips up to his intense brown irises, and he could see it in his eyes:

_Come and get it._

The corner of Malik's mouth twitched, and he leaned in even closer. His eyes were becoming half-lidded, and he could see Bakura's was as well. He couldn't help but swallow.

There was a sudden screech of tires as a car skidded to a stop a few meters away. Malik's head snapped right up while his eyes snapped open. Bakura's did as well, and both of them turned to look at the car while Malik hastily tried to get off the other teen and get up on his feet.

"Master Malik, we came as soon as we could," the Rare Hunter who came out of the car said. Malik's eyes narrowed. That was not ten minutes. He made a sign to the Rare Hunter to come closer, and knelt down next to Bakura as he did.

"I suggest you disappear again, spirit. You won't be needed for quite some time."

"But we were just getting to the fun part," Bakura said and this time he was definitely smirking.

"_Now_," Malik added. The spirit's eyes narrowed, but then closed. For a moment, nothing happened, but then his whole body suddenly relaxed, and he was gone. Malik stood up with a sudden grimace of distaste on his face. "Put him in the car and meet me outside Sea World. I'll take the motorcycle. Jonouchi's duel is almost finished, isn't it?"

"Yes, Master Malik," the man agreed and carelessly picked up Bakura. Malik had half a mind telling him to be more careful, but changed his mind at the last moment. That was nothing but the host, and the spirit was long gone.

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><p><strong>AN:** *smugface*  
>This is my first theifshipping... I promise to write something with more action next time! xD<p> 


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